Page 13 of The Sisters at the Last House Before the Sea

Maisie absent-mindedly scratched her stomach. ‘The what now?’

‘It’s a very old Bible that Gran had. It’s been in her family for a long time and I think…’ Isla opened the front cover and smiled. ‘Yes, I was right. There’s a family tree drawn inside.’

‘Who did that? Your gran?’

Isla shook her head. ‘No, it’s much older than that but it’s been added to over the years, as people got married and new babies arrived. I was hoping it might tell me who Edith was.’

‘And who’s Edith?’

‘She’s the woman mentioned in the letter that Gran left me and your—’ Isla hesitated. Did Maisie refer to Caitlin as Mum? Probably not because she did have a mother somewhere. ‘To Caitlin,’ she said, deciding to play it safe.

Maisie trailed down the stairs, her fingers brushing the wooden bannister. ‘Are you trying to work out that puzzle thing? I can’t remember what it said.’

‘Don’t get in a spin, girls, though mistakes can cost you dear. This one brings good fortune and, I hope, will make you cheer.’

Maisie’s lip curled in amusement, as if Isla was the saddest woman she’d ever met for knowing the riddle off by heart. She sniffed. ‘It’s all daft, though, isn’t it?’

‘I don’t think so, not if Gran composed the riddle specifically for us.’

‘Yeah, but what’s all that “good fortune” about? Working out what Jessie was going on about won’t lead you to a pot of gold or anything.’

‘Probably not,’ Isla agreed. ‘But I don’t care about finding money. No, I really don’t,’ she repeated when Maisie raised an eyebrow. ‘I love solving riddles and puzzles, just like Gran did, and if she left me and Caitlin the old letter and this riddle, then it must mean something. And aren’t you fascinated to know more about Edith and William and their love story? Anyway…’ Isla continued quickly as Maisie opened her mouth, no doubt to proclaim that she wasn’t in the slightest bit interested in a couple now long dead. ‘Let’s have a look and see if the family Bible can shed any light on the mystery.’

She led the way back to the kitchen, placed the Bible down with a thump on the table and peered at the family tree etched inside. She and Caitlin were at the end of the tree, with their mother, Rebecca, above them and Jessie, Rebecca’s mother, above her.

Isla gently ran her finger over her mother’s name: Rebecca Jane Gillard, born 12th Feb1963. The date of her death, forty years later, was not noted. A vivid picture of her mother swam into Isla’s mind. She was smiling at her, wearing the blue silk dress, edged with silver thread, that she’d always loved.

‘You all right?’ asked Maisie, giving Isla some serious side eye. ‘You look like you’re gonna pass out.’

‘I’m fine,’ said Isla briskly, although she could hardly breathe. It was twenty years since her mother had died yet she could still be floored by grief. She sat down at the table and tried to gather her thoughts by focusing on the here and now and the font of family knowledge in front of her.

A man named Archibald Anstey, born in 1872, was at the head of the tree that had been inked onto the page over the years, and Isla quickly worked out that he was her great-great-grandfather. His name seemed familiar. She drummed her fingers on the table, trying to remember why, until it came to her: Archibald, mentioned once or twice by her gran, was the person who had originally built Rose Cottage.

He had also helped to build a family. Isla ran her eye over the branches that spread from Archibald’s name – brothers, sisters, children…all people, like her mum, who had once lived and breathed and loved and laughed, and who were now gone.

‘So is Edith in the tree thing?’ asked Maisie, pulling a box of cornflakes from the cupboard.

Isla scanned down the names and smiled. ‘Yes, here she is. Edith Anstey, born on the seventeenth of January1898. It looks like she was Frederick’s sister.’

‘Like I’m supposed to know who Frederick is,’ said Maisie grumpily, pouring cornflakes into a bowl and sploshing milk on top.

‘Sorry. Frederick is Gran’s dad, so my great-grandfather. He was born two years before his sister.’ Isla leaned back in her chair, pleased with her detective work. ‘So that means the Edith whom William was madly in love with was my and Caitlin’s great-great-aunt. I don’t remember Gran ever mentioning her.’

‘Probably never met her if she’d very sensibly escaped from this place and gone to America,’ muttered Maisie.

Isla ignored her and studied the list of ancestors laid out before her. Edith didn’t have children, if this family tree was correct. Or perhaps she’d lost contact with her Heaven’s Cove relatives after moving across the Atlantic and they didn’t know much about her family over there.

Isla frowned. It was good to know who Edith was, but that knowledge didn’t bring her any closer to solving her grandmother’s final riddle. She would have to go online again and try to track Edith down in America – or, rather, track down any descendants because both Edith and her husband, William, would definitely be deceased by now.

Isla clicked off her work emails, which could wait, and began to search online for anyone who might be related to her great-great-aunt. She’d only just learned of Edith’s existence, yet she felt bizarrely proud to be related to a woman who, unlike her, had shown the courage to set sail and see the world.

Even if she and Caitlin were never able to solve Jessie’s riddle, at least she now knew about her adventurous relative. Isla gave a wry smile, wondering if Edith’s courage might rub off on her one day.

‘It’s good to kind of meet you, Edith,’ she muttered under her breath. ‘Thanks, Gran, for introducing us.’

Maisie harrumphed in the corner, obviously concerned that Isla was now talking to herself, but Isla continued scrolling, searching for her long-gone relative who was once the love of William Columbus’s life.

7

---